smelter at the ironworks, of Grunta
“I do my shift, I keep my head down, and I make sure I have what I need to earn my groschen. Let the others weep if they cannot look after their own.”
Things Heinz had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the Tuesday before Whitsun, at Compline
Robert coughed up blood today by the slag heap. By Christ's wounds, he sounds just like Bynyek did before the end. Nicholas covered his shift again, the soft fool. If Tobias catches them, they'll both be out in the cold. I kept my head down and kept feeding the fire.
Nota scribaeThe man spent the entire dictation picking black dirt from his fingernails.
the feast of St Pancras, at Terce
Denis and Geoffrey are still bickering over a lamp like two old women. The noise is worse than the bellows. I told them to shut their mouths before the foreman hears and sacks the lot of us. A quiet shed is the only good thing in this world.
It is my lamp, Heinz, and I need the light to write to Sarah.
She is in Kolin, Denis, she cannot read in the dark from there!
the second day of Easter week, at Prime
Bread is dearer again and the ale-wife is serving slop barely fit for pigs. I saw soldiers on the road today, looking hungry. I am keeping my tools under my mattress. A man without a tapping bar is a man without a wage, and I will not starve.
Speaking of tools, Heinz. You know very well what I am going to ask.
I have no idea what you mean, Frantishek. I only have what is mine.
Nota scribaeHe lowered his voice when speaking of the tools and looked out the door.
the third Wednesday of Lent, at Sext
Ernest the Hound is too loud. He spent the whole shift complaining about the foreman's rules. If he worked as hard as he whined, he wouldn't have to worry about broken gear. By Christ's wounds, if a man cannot look after his own property, he deserves what he gets.
It was not broken, you thieving bastard, you took it after the hearth blew!
Candlemas, at Vespers
A wet batch of ore blew the hearth today. Steam and fire everywhere, and half the crew dropped their gear in the panic. Tobias will inspect the carts tomorrow and anyone without a bar will be sacked. I gathered what I need to work. That is just common sense.
You gathered my rake, Heinz. Give it back.
And my tapping bar! We will starve if the foreman sees us empty-handed.
Nota scribaeDictated in the shed. The air was thick with smoke and he coughed constantly.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
A man should help his neighbour, Heinz. The lung sickness is no joke.